By CLARE LONDON (28 page)

“You don’t want me to change, not even when I want to be with you?” He stared at me, bemused. He held out his hand, and I raised mine to match it. I spread my fingers and reached for his. Five fingertips touched five others and pressed gently together. It was an electric feeling—the current ran swiftly and shockingly through my veins. Our fingers slid slowly down and interlocked. His palm was sweaty.

“Seve, I want to be with you as well.”

“But—?”

I hushed him with my fingers on his lips. Rich, beautiful, appetizing lips. “But that’s not going to happen for us, is it?” I whispered. “Not the way things are. Not after last night.”

I WENT into the kitchen for another bottle of water. I felt more resilient now. The room smelled of tea and cleaning products, and there was no evidence that anyone had been working in there at all this morning. Except for the bundle rolled up in a sheet against the far wall. It wasn’t Baz any more, but it had once been a man. It reminded me of Stewart’s death.

I knew now that it wasn’t my fault that Stewart died. He was still dead, of course, and it was still fucking painful to think of him. But some of the terrible guilt had eased. I’d been part of the world that had killed him, but it hadn’t been my hand that harmed him. It hadn’t been my order that sent Baz to kill him—it hadn’t been my negligence that led any of us to that spot that night. Stewart’s conversation was clear in my mind, his complaints, his amusement. His world-weary wisdom and his unassuming friendship. His desire to help others, and not in some insincere, sanctimonious way. His steady belief that I could be better.

And I knew very clearly now what my way should be.

WHEN I came back into the living room, Seve was standing by the couch. He looked steadier on his feet now. Actually, he looked damn gorgeous as ever. The polo shirt was slinky and was probably really expensive. It gave him the impression of being respectably dressed, and yet I could see the movement of his muscles under the cloth and the hint of erect nipples that made him look erotically half-naked. He’d run a hand through his hair, and it stood up spikily on his scalp. He displayed a casual elegance that I’d never seen anyone else do so well. I’d told him how I felt about him—and he’d returned the compliment. I didn’t think he was going to lie to me anymore. Part of me didn’t mind either way. I had my truth. And anyway, what did it matter now?

I drew a deep breath but I wasn’t afraid. Just needed to bring things back under control. “I’m going to the cops, Seve.”

A flash in those hooded eyes. He’d obviously been thinking things through as well, while I was out of the room. “Yes.” He inclined his head in that way he had.

Bloody man, I thought. Now is not the time to return to monosyllabic conversation. This was difficult enough as it was. “I want to tell them about London. I want to get myself clear of that shit, at least. And I want someone to be accountable for the drugs and for… Stewart. Okay, so they’ll probably charge me for something—the courier job or leaving the scene that night. I have no idea how much trouble I’ll be in. But that time was nothing to do with you. I don’t want you dragged down with it.” Was that selfish or naive of me? Was that even possible? “Yet with all that’s happened this morning….”

He pursed his lips. I leaned involuntarily toward them. He looked like he’d been making decisions as well. “What happened this morning is my problem, Max.”

“What?”

“I feel the same way for you—that I do not want you responsible for something that is not to do with you.”

“But we both—”

He made a sharp tut noise that silenced me. “This man came to my flat to threaten me because of my family’s business. My family—my problem. So you must not be involved with it.”

“I can’t do that!”

He continued regardless. “Give me a few hours before you call the police. Just give me the rest of the day to arrange things.”

There was that phrase again—arrange. “What about the body?”

“It’ll be found,” he said. “Just not here.”

“And Peck?”

“I said I’ll arrange things. Mama has many friends still here.” His eyes met mine, and the dark chasms were hiding both fear and decision. “You will not be incriminated, Max, not from anything that happened here. I hope that I will not be either. But I cannot afford to be mixed up in it at the moment. I must keep Mama safe. Peck can do too much damage, and with my uncle unchecked, our entire business is vulnerable. My uncle is a shrewd and clever man—I am afraid we will all take our turn as the scapegoat. I need to be away from here to try and salvage what I can. We must act immediately—to put an end to the threat hanging over all of us.” His pupils widened. “Over you too, Max.”

A chill spread slowly across my body. “Is it your turn to run, Seve?”

His eyes flashed. “I will do what I have to. I must leave as soon as possible. I haven’t initiated this, but if I can help put things right, whatever it takes, I will. Many of my family will. We’re not all in it for the money, Max.”

I held up a hand in apology, though I’d never said or meant that. I wondered if he’d have a job and the expensive flat and car or a family business at all when he came back. Didn’t they freeze assets when businesses were under investigation? Was that as important to Seve as being pursued by Peck and his death wish?

Or perhaps he wasn’t coming back at all.

Fuck.

“They’ll call you in. They may arrest you.”

“The police? On what charge?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so, even if and when I provide the information they need. I am not involved at a high enough level in the business, you see. I’ll be just a whistleblower: a pawn in their eyes.” And from the frown on his face, in his eyes too. “They will want my uncle and his network, which Mama and I will give them. And they still want Stewart’s murderer. You’ll make sure they have that as well.”

“Even if it costs me.”

“I think they will see you as a hero, Max, not a villain. But I do not know for certain. I don’t wish that trouble on you. If I could help….”

I nodded. I knew. But this was for me alone to work out.

“And if they do come after me… well, Mama has her own network on the continent. I won’t be easy to find.”

The chill washed over me again. “If they can’t find you, Seve, neither will I. Will I?”

He stared at me. “No, you won’t.”

The ache inside me was like a wound.

“But you misunderstand, Max.” He stepped forward, and although I tensed, I let him take hold of me again. “I assumed… I cannot leave you here if you think Peck is still looking for you.”

“Hey. I’ll be okay. Once he finds Baz has gone, he’ll think twice. And I’ll stick close to the guys, no one will get close to me if I don’t want them to. And the gang at the site are pretty useful as bodyguards too.” I wasn’t sure if I was joking or not, to be honest, but Seve looked stricken.

“No, Max. I mean… come and join me as soon as you can. I want you to come with me to Spain.”

People describe some of the defining moments of their lives as the hardest thing they’ve ever faced, don’t they? The most painful decision they’ve ever made; the most heart-wrenching choice they’ve ever taken. It’s just shit, really, isn’t it? To be in that position.

“No, Seve.”

His hands, tight on me. His knee brushing mine. The whole smell of him, the remembered taste. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. I must stay here.”

“Explain this to me,” he said in a clipped tone. His accent had become more pronounced with his emotion. “What do you really mean? That it will be some time before you can come? The wait is not important.”

It seemed very easy now to explain. To put into words the way that I was going to be now. “It’s my promise, Seve, you see. My promise to myself and to Stewart.”

“He is dead, Max.”

I dismissed that with a shake of my head. “I’m still following his advice, Seve. I’m going to accept the past and then move on, but properly this time. I’ll accept the great friends that I have—I’ll treasure them. I’ll let them help me with all those issues, all my baggage. I’ll accept….” I met his eyes. “Accept new relationships, if they come along.” I’d wanted to live up to what Stewart wanted—what he thought I was capable of. What he said I deserved. But I’d been taking the line of least resistance for too long now: pitching below standard, doing only enough to get by. Trying not to be noticed. But I’d dragged the past around with me regardless. I hadn’t seen how anyone could ever forget it. I couldn’t seem to forget it myself.

“I’m going to make this change wholeheartedly.” My voice was jarringly brittle in the quiet room. “I’m going to make my own choices and ask myself exactly what I want, and I’ll live it properly. Set the slate clean. Start again with some more realistic goals. And they’ll be mine and they’ll be honest. I’ll build up some respect for myself at last.”

He stood like a statue. Only the hitch of his breath and the pulse in his throat showed me that he was listening to every word.

“It’s… a lot of it is due to you, Seve, you know? Meeting you—finding you.” And that’s what was making this so bad. So fucking bad. “I want this new me, Seve. I like it! But this is my place now, and I have to stay here to do things properly—to start growing up. Even though I know what this means to… us.”

The air in the room was tight with tension. Dust motes spun in the ray of sun through the window. I heard a motorbike pass outside; a church bell tolled slowly in the background. When Seve spoke, the sound rippled around me like I was in some kind of deprivation tank; I could barely make out coherent words. I hadn’t realized how tightly I was holding on to my senses.

“I won’t lie to you anymore, Max.”

“Sure, I know.”

He was trying to tell me something again, with his eyes. I could only see misery, and it was depressing me beyond anything else. “So I’ll stay here with you.”

“No!” My voice had risen, which startled us both. “That’s not going to work either, is it? There’s your mother. The business. What you need to do.”

Our eyes must have reflected the same anguish, the same realization. It was stalemate for the moment.

“No, of course not,” he whispered.

“Good.” I sounded shaky, even on the single word.

“But… if you had asked….”

I sighed. “Yeah.”

He took a deep breath as if it pained him. “When everything has been concluded, I will come back here.”

I swallowed hard and moved away from him. His hands gripped more tightly for a second, hanging on to my arms. Then he let me loose. “That’s great, Seve. If that’s what you want. But don’t do it for me.” He winced as if I’d hit him. “I don’t want us to go separate ways,” I said. “But I need to get my own head straight. I think… it’s better if I have some time on my own.” There’d been another death, another crime. Seve and I just had too much baggage. It was heavy, and it was complex, and if we didn’t move on, it was going to bury us both. This was the best way to come clean. To start afresh.

At that moment, I was totally sure of it.

Seve made a strange, soft whimpering sound that I’d never heard from him before. He moved suddenly, pressing up against me again, clumsily as if his limbs were no longer under his control. I thought I should probably run—really fast, and in the opposite direction—but I didn’t. I didn’t want to. He clasped me to him, shifting his body against me, and his hand brushed against my cheek.

“I must go, Seve.”

“Of course.” His voice was deep and rough, and it washed over me like a too-hot shower on a cold day. Pure, unadulterated, painful pleasure. “I must go too. I need to make some calls, then pack a bag and order a cab to Gatwick. Just… a little more time?”

He kissed me again then. He reached an arm around my back, and I folded into him like melted chocolate. His mouth was firm and demanding, and I was happy to surrender to it. We were warm, and the taste of him was poignantly sweet. I wrapped my arms around his neck and traced the pattern of his cropped hair at the nape, trying to commit it to memory with my fingertips. He rested his hand on my head, wrapping strands of my hair around his fingers and tugging almost playfully, directing my mouth against his whenever it tried to shift away elsewhere. Our tongues were very fierce and very hungry. I slid my hand up underneath his shirt. He felt rich and exotic, and the flesh was smooth under my touch. I ran my fingers around to his back and then down to his waist. He drew in a breath and pressed his body closer to mine. I had to wriggle to rest my swelling cock against the side of his rather than full on.

“Yes?” he murmured. His hips moved very slightly, but he knew I’d realize what they were asking.

I moved back, adjusting myself to the side again. “No.”

He smiled sadly, not offended nor surprised. “Sure.” He did his own investigation, his own memory game. He ran his lips down my neck until I thought I had no more blood left in my body except the amount that was racing to my groin area. He traced the profile of my face and ran his hands down my sides and hips. He would have run them around to my arse and up my inner thighs if I hadn’t stopped him. A man can only stand so much sensory ecstasy.

“I’ll miss this. Touching you, Max.”

“Arguing with me,” I whispered. Lame fucking joke.

“Yes,” he agreed. “That too.”

Neither of us mentioned the maybe never again option, but I’m sure we both thought it. He placed a single finger on my mouth and ran it gently from one side to the other. When it lingered there a little longer, I slipped my tongue out to moisten my lips, and I kissed the tip of it. He shuddered. And then he left the room. I heard him striding up the hallway toward the bedroom.

Shaken, my eyes stinging, I stuffed my wallet and possessions into my pockets and let myself out of the flat.

LIFE goes on, as they say. Six months later a lot of things had changed—and a lot of them had stayed the same. I was still living with Jack and Louis and doing more than my fair share of washing up. It was as if I thought I had to build up my credit status, though they never said anything like that. I was still working at the construction site, but I’d reduced my shifts because I was looking into a change of career. More of that later.